|
Love of basketball links
Alaska's far-flung villages By Sal Ruibal, USA TODAY NINILCHIK, Alaska Ñ On this full-moon night
on the shores of Cook Inlet, the only sounds in this old fishing village are the
hissing flow of icy tidal waters and a steady, thumping drumbeat. The beat comes
from the gymnasium in the village's modern concrete school building, where a dozen
basketballs are dribbled up and down the court by girls in blue-and-gold shorts
and T-shirts. Ninilchik's Russian and Native founders wouldn't understand the
game, but they would surely savor the warrior spirit of the Lady Wolverines, who
have won two consecutive Alaska Class 2A championships Ñ for schools with
51 to 100 students Ñ as well as three out of the last five state titles and
eight consecutive regional championships. Rural
Alaska is mad about basketball, the perfect game for a society hemmed in by winter
storms and long nights. The game transcends sport to become the thread that binds
isolated villages and extended families, a cultural link that goes back to the
days when visitors arrived by dog sled or sealskin kayak. On
this night, coach Dan Leman Ñ a member of one of the village's founding families
Ñ is preparing his team for a tough road trip against archrival Seldovia
that begins the next morning. Ninilchik is accessible
by road, but Seldovia is reachable only by plane or boat. In the three-month basketball
season, the Lady Wolverines will log more than 3,000 miles by van, plane and boat
traveling to towns such as the seaport of Homer and Yakutat on the Inside Passage
near Juneau. What might seem like exotic travel to outsiders
is a way of life in Alaska, where there are just 5,000 miles of highways. Only
160,000 of its 365 million acres are populated; more than one-third of the state's
650,000 residents live in villages such as Ninilchik, home to 450 year-round residents. But the road trip tradition is endangered. Alaska's
energy gravy train has slowed in the last decade, along with the billion-dollar
oil company royalty checks that kept the state government coffers full. The school
system is under pressure to meet mandated standards of learning, so funds that
schools had earmarked for activities are now funneled into academics and testing. "We
can't turn our backs on academics," says Gary Matthews, executive director of
the Alaska School Activities Association. "But we also know that school activities
such as basketball can be valuable learning experiences, especially for kids in
bush communities. We've got to find a way to keep it going, but the taxpayers
aren't willing to pay more." Travel doesn't come cheap
in the 49th state. Matthews estimates that his association will spend more than
$1 million this year just to bring teams to Anchorage for state championship tournaments.
Schools in far-off places such as Barrow in the bleak Arctic north must pay the
expenses of visiting teams; otherwise their players would be on the road every
game. Even in Ninilchik, which is fortunate to be on
the Sterling Highway and can reach many opponents by inexpensive van, students
pay activity fees of $100 per sport with a family maximum of $350 a year. The
school will spend about $6,000 on travel for the Lady Wolverines this basketball
season. Special trips aren't included in that budget.
A 1,570-mile road and air trip to Yakutat earlier this season cost the school
an additional $5,000. Yakutat chipped in $2,000, but the players had to hold fundraisers
to pay off the balance. On this 165-mile round-trip
to Seldovia, the girls varsity and junior varsity teams will travel with the boys
teams. While the Lady Wolverines are a star-filled dynasty, the boys have been
struggling. They don't mind giving the girls their due, however, as the Ninilchik
boys won the state wrestling championship in the fall. After
a mandatory check to ensure the kids are properly outfitted for the brisk, 20-degree
weather, the caravan of blue team vans and parents' cars heads south on the Sterling
Highway toward Homer, 40 miles away at the tip of the Kenai Peninsula. The road
skirts the bluffs above the wide Cook Inlet, passing moose in the woods and a
lone wolf sauntering across an open field. Gut-churning
voyage Across the expanse of cold gray water is
the Aleutian Volcanic Arc, a snow-covered range of active volcanic cones that
are part of the tumultuous Pacific Ring of Fire. In
1964, the cataclysmic Good Friday earthquake ripped the peninsula and scoured
the shoreline. Quakes are still felt in the area. A small tremor went bump in
the night before the road trip, but the jolt was so familiar the players didn't
bother to talk about it. Anticipation of the coming
boat trip from Homer to Seldovia has the girls recounting a gut-churning return
voyage on the ferry two years ago. "We really shouldn't
have left," senior Jessica Russo says. "The waves were really high, and the boat
next to us took on water and began to capsize. It was scary." But
they also have some funny tales. Junior forward Janelle Moerlein recalls a visit
to the Russian Village, one of the traditional hamlets that have survived with
its Russian culture intact. "The girls wore long dresses, down past their ankles.
The referees couldn't see if the girls were walking with the ball because they
couldn't see their feet." As the vans reach the high
ridge overlooking the inlet, white caps on the waves send a shiver through the
group. "Looks like we're gonna have some green Wolverines
tonight," coach Leman chuckles. "Seasickness is part of Seldovia's home-court
advantage." Once at the Homer dock, the teams and families
crowd into the Rainbow Connection, a vessel that appears to have more in
common with Gilligan's S.S. Minnow than the Staten Island Ferry. Soon
after reaching open water, the boat begins to toss up and down. In the open stern,
a few girls are tossing, as well. But at the undulating bow, a handful of Lady
Wolverines are facing the waves head-on, screaming with delight. Inside
the crowded cabin, the girls hunker down with textbooks. This trip will take up
Friday and Saturday, but away games are no excuse for missing exams or homework.
The system works: 10 of the 12 varsity players are honor students. Because
of the high seas, the captain has decided to go to the alternative landing at
Jakalof Bay, 10 miles away from Seldovia on twisty, snow-covered roads. Cellphones
buzz and an armada of vehicles is sent from the village to the back bay. When
the Rainbow Connection arrives, the wobbly Ninilchik contingent navigates
an equally wobbly floating walkway glazed with ice. But the waiting SUVs and vans
are warm, and the Seldovian parents eagerly load up kids and bags and take off
for the gym. Blood connection
Seldovia and Ninilchik have a blood connection going back to the mid-19th century.
The nine founding families of Ninilchik trace their lineage to Marva Petrovna,
the daughter of a Kodiak Island Aleut and a Russian shipbuilder. In
1847, Marva and her Russian husband Grigorii Kvasnikoff arrived on the wide beaches
to become the first residents of Ninilchik. More than 3,000 of their descendants
now live in the area, including Seldovia. Their unique blend of native and Russian
cultures lives on in these isolated villages and the games they play. Coach
Leman and his burly brother Butch played hoops against Seldovia teams. John Gruber,
now coach of the Seldovia boys team, competed against them. This
Lady Wolverines team has never lost to Seldovia. They defeated the Sea Otters
six times last season, including the finals of the state championship tournament.
Going into this game, the teams are ranked No. 1 and No. 2 in the 2A rankings.
But Ninilchik is facing a major obstacle: sophomore point guard Whitney Leman,
the coach's daughter and the team's leading scorer, has a sprained ankle and can't
play. The local fans anticipate an upset. Seldovia houses
visiting teams in the school. The girls team sleeps in the music room, the boys
in the science room. Ninilchik in turn showed its generosity after Seldovia's
team van was stolen and burned on a recent road trip. The Wolverines teams and
fans sent their rivals $350 to help replace the van and uniforms. When
the girls varsity game begins at 5 p.m., the gym is packed. Snowmobiles, SUVs
and battered pickup trucks fill the narrow parking lot. The game is close, but
the Lady Wolverines can't overcome Whitney Leman's absence and fall 37-30. The
long win streak is over, but there isn't much gloating or wailing. Both teams
know they'll meet again in the regionals and perhaps in the state tournament. "It
feels good to win," says Seldovia senior guard Jacqueline Brown. "They always
make us play hard." As the boys varsity game begins,
some of the crowd filters out. The girls shower and head to dinner, their emotions
over the defeat disappear in the consumption of massive quantities of spaghetti. It
is Seldovia's night, and the Sea Otters take the boys game, too. Players of both
genders and schools spend the rest of the evening socializing by shooting baskets
in the locked-down gym.
By midnight, the girls have pumped up their air mattresses
and pulled out their home pillows and settle in for the night. Assistant coach
Kendra Nicholson sleeps near the door. "Just in case," she says with a laugh.
Senior Russo says she's
becoming nostalgic now that her road trip schedule has dwindled to a handful of
games. "I'm going to miss this," she says, wrapped up in the comforter from her
home bed. "The next couple of games are going to be really tough." Russo,
one of two seniors on the squad, plans to attend college and study business after
graduation. Despite the team's stellar record, college recruiters seldom scout
the rural games, preferring to spend their time in Anchorage where the big Class
4A schools Ñ 401 students or more Ñ play in a more urban circuit.
A more realistic goal is to become a coach. Assistant coach
Nicholson was a member of the team from 1991 to 1994 and played in a state championship
game. Tasha Leman, the coach's eldest daughter, was a star on last year's championship
team and now attends college in Oregon with dreams of becoming a coach.
Some
of them have played together since the third grade, spending many nights like
this in gyms and vans and airline seats, and over the years have perfected a system
for surviving on the road. "We can make things much easier and less heavy if we
double up with someone else," says Whitney Leman. " Every little amount of space
counts." Despite their many hours of travel and hard
play, the players stave off sleep and talk quietly. They never seem to run out
of things to talk about. "Every day here is a new day," Whitney Leman says. "That's
exciting, isn't it?"
|
